


The Jewel and the Crown

by CrystalNavy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Politics, Restoration, Usurpation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalNavy/pseuds/CrystalNavy
Summary: The tale of restoration and redemption.





	The Jewel and the Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An assassin strikes in the middle of night. His motive is love.

Anarion paced around the room, trying to calm down, to no avail. Pharazon and his wife, Anarion's distant cousin, had come to pay them a visit a day before. Miriel, who was called Zimraphel now, seemed pale and withdrawn. She looked like someone who had lost all hope. And Anarion couldn't stand it. So he sought out Zimraphel, and found her.

"Have you heard the tale of the Fall of Gondolin?" Anarion asked, as he approached her "How our ancestor, Tuor, fought to protect the one that he loved, and he threw her cousin from the walls?"

Zimraphel's knuckles turned white as she realized the hidden meaning behind his words.

"You can't." she whispered, hoarsely

"I can, and I will." Anarion said fiercely "Because the alternative is worse, for it would mean that you'll wither away, and I'll lose you. I'll give you what is yours. I'll give it all back to you, just like you had given me your heart, Miriel."

He embraced her before she could protest.

"You and I will return Numenor to its former glory, you'll see." he pulled out his sword "This, I promise you."

-x-

That night, after a feast, was when Anarion opted to make his move. He had made sure both Pharazon and Zimraphel would be drunk, and thus would sleep like stones. Once the clock struck midnight, he entered their quarters as quietly as possible. He held a sword above Pharazon's heart, then brought it downwards. He left some fake evidence, implicating one of the King's Men, whom he knew to be greedy and thus more likely to betray Pharazon for his own gain. Then he left, as quietly as he had come. With Pharazon dead, the throne and the scepter would return to Miriel, and he, Anarion, would stand by her side.

He knew that there was a chance Zimraphel - his Miriel - would see through this and wouldn't forgive him, and he was fine with that.

It was she who mattered the most, after all. He had given Numenor, the land of her forefathers, back to her. She'd be the ruler she was meant to be, he knew.

The era of King's Men, the era of corruption, was over.

Anarion smiled.


End file.
